


Light as a Feather

by Ghost_in_the_Hella



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Awkward Flirting, F/F, Flirting, Panic Attack, Party Games, Rachel Amber would 1000 percent dabble in dark magic, Recreational Drug Use, Steph's too gay for this shit, Supernatural - Freeform, Underage Drinking, amberprice, drug-induced freakout, hella sweary, imperfect relationships, seance, unrequited amberich, unrequited pricerich
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:15:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26698102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghost_in_the_Hella/pseuds/Ghost_in_the_Hella
Summary: “You’ve never played Light as a Feather, Stiff as a Board?” Rachel questions with some surprise.The boys both shrug.“You’ve never seen The Craft?” Steph asks with equal surprise.The boys shrug again.“Unbelievable,” Steph mutters as Rachel begins explaining.---Steph attends a party at Chloe’s house and things get spooky.
Relationships: Rachel Amber/Chloe Price, Steph Gingrich & Chloe Price, Steph Gingrich & Rachel Amber
Comments: 13
Kudos: 32





	Light as a Feather

**Author's Note:**

> R.I.P. William Price.

No drama. This is Steph’s number one rule for getting through high school with her dignity intact. She lets all the drama happen onstage where it belongs. That way she can sit from a safe distance and keep it all under control.  
  
The girl she likes takes an interest in one of her friends instead? Plenty of other fish in the sea. They’re all still young; there’ll be other girls, other crushes. They can all stay friends. No drama.  
  
Best friend gets his arm broken by a drug dealer? ...Okay, _some_ drama but she’s not really there for the worst of it, only the aftermath. And she can handle it. Stand by him, make sure he’s okay, keep his spirits up while he’s in the hospital, be a supportive friend and let the authorities handle the rest. Time heals all wounds. No drama.  
  
The girl she still likes despite her best efforts moves into the dorms and every few nights she has to hear her having sex? That’s why noise-canceling headphones were invented. No drama.  
  
Steph prides herself on being able to keep a cool, level head under all circumstances and on being able to keep the drama in her life to a bare minimum. That’s why she knows that tonight is a bad idea right from the very start.  
  
On the surface, it seems fine: just a small, casual get-together with a few friends. She knows all of these people. She _likes_ all of these people. 

Justin and Trevor are pretty low drama folks, usually too stoned to give too many shits about anything else. They’ll talk about how much school sucks, how much smoking pot and skateboarding rule, and probably recap some old Scooby Doo episode she’s already seen a dozen times as if nobody’s ever seen an episode of Scooby Doo before. 

Rachel, of course, she’s spent quite a bit of time with, though mostly through Drama classes and productions. Steph’s mostly over her crush on her. Mostly. Drama seems to follow Rachel around well beyond the classroom, so even though Steph still feels that magnetic pull toward her sometimes she knows she’s probably better off not actually dating her. 

And Chloe... Chloe’s an interesting case. They’re friends, sort of. They played D&D together a bunch before Mikey and Drew moved away, and even though Chloe always played by her own set of rules and was basically a DM’s nightmare, it was still a good time. Most of the time, Chloe’s pretty chill. She and Rachel are... _whatever_ she and Rachel are, and that’s kind of awkward sometimes, especially when she runs into Chloe in the morning at the dorms even though Chloe 1) has never lived in the dorms and 2) has officially been persona non grata at Blackwell ever since her expulsion.  
  
Things have been a little awkward between them ever since that one party where they kind of sort of hooked up for half a second, but mostly they’ve been chill. Chloe’s a lot like Steph in many ways, really: great taste in movies, a sharp wit and sharper tongue, a vivid imagination, mad drawing skills, strong opinions and the will to voice them. Chloe tries to avoid drama, too; she’s just not any good at it. It follows her around like a tail. Being Rachel’s BFF with benefits probably doesn’t help her there.

Although Steph’s hung out with all of these people before and it’s been fine, their hangouts have generally been on neutral territory. Classes, parties, plays, the Blackwell campus in general, sometimes the skate park. Neutral territory is good. It puts everyone on even footing, more or less. 

Chloe’s house is definitely not neutral territory. 

Steph sits in her car, staring at the house. Objectively speaking, it isn’t ominous. It’s a pretty normal house in a pretty normal neighborhood. The lights shine warmly through the windows. She can faintly hear the laughter of her friends trickling through an open window on the upper floor. The exterior is a bit weathered, only partially painted and clearly subjected to the elements for longer than intended, and there’s something a bit lonely and abandoned about it, but it doesn’t feel like anybody’s waiting in the bushes to slit her throat or anything.

But still. She feels… off. She’s late to the party. It sounds like they’re having a perfectly good time without her. She could leave and they wouldn’t even know she came all the way out here. Go back to the dorms and marathon Doctor Who. Make some half-assed excuse if anybody asks her about it: “Oh, was that supposed to be last night? Sorry, I forgot…”

Pathetic. There’s nothing to be nervous about. She drags herself out of the car, marching herself to the front door and knocking before she has time to psych herself out completely. Time to roll the dice. 

The first thing Steph notices when Chloe answers the door is her hair. She’s seen it in pictures - they’re friends on Nodface - but it’s so much more vivid in person. The blue streak had been a good look for her, gave her just enough of an edge. Like showing an inch of an otherwise concealed dagger to warn someone off. This is more like a warhammer straight to the face without warning. It looks _awesome_.

The second thing she notices is that Chloe’s pupils are _huge_. So dilated it’s as if they’ve chased all of the blue of her irises straight into her hair. Shit, Steph really is late to the party. 

She doesn’t have much time to process either of these observations before she finds herself being engulfed in a bone-cracking bear hug. “Steeeeeeeeeppphhh…” Chloe rocks her back and forth and lifts her up a little from the ground. She stinks of weed and b.o. and a couple of other weird odors Steph can’t place. “Dude, it’s been a zillion years!”

It’s been a month, two at most, but Steph isn’t going to quibble over details with an obviously stoned-as-fuck Chloe. At least she seems like she’s in a good mood, which is nearly as shocking of a change as her hair. “It’s good to see you, too, Chloe,” she manages through her aching lungs as Chloe gives her one more hard squeeze before setting her down. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Pssshhhht, whatever; I’m just glad you’re here.” Chloe turns around and starts wandering deeper into the house, so Steph closes the door behind them and follows. She’s never been in the Price house before. Or Madsen, she guesses. It’s nicer inside than she would’ve expected given its unfinished paint job and Chloe’s perpetual state of general disarray. “Joyce and the step-fuck are gone for the weekend,” Chloe offers as she stops in the kitchen to grab two cans of beer out of the fridge, “so we’ve got the run of the place tonight.” She thrusts one of the cans into Steph’s hands so abruptly Steph nearly drops it. “Nobody here to give us shit. C’n just relax and have a chill night for once. Fuckin’ cheers, man.” She clunks their cans together and cracks hers open, taking a hearty swig. 

“Cheers,” Steph echoes as she opens her own can and takes a sip. Steph can hear music and voices filtering down the stairs, but Chloe seems content to hang out in the relative quiet of the kitchen for the time being. Although the party has evidently moved upstairs since, the kitchen has clearly not been spared from their shenanigans. Crumb-speckled baking trays populate the flour-coated counters. There are a couple of dirty frying pans on the stove, shining with grease. There’s a lingering smell of weed and burned chocolate in the air.

“You hear from Mikey at all?” Chloe asks after an uncomfortably long stretch of silence.

“Yeah, we text all the time. He’s doing alright. Sometimes we do campaigns over Skype.”

“No shit? That’s awesome.” Chloe takes another gulp of her beer. “Can he, um. Can he still draw?” There’s a hint of guilt in her voice that surprises Steph a little.

“Oh, totally. His arm healed up ages ago.” It’s sort of sweet, the way Chloe’s posture relaxes with relief at Steph’s words. Steph pushes on, “Yeah, no, he and Drew are both doing really well. Drew’s got a part-time job on top of his scholarship. Mikey’s made a couple of friends who’re even bigger nerds than he is, if you can believe it. They’re designing some super-secret tabletop game together, and he’s doing the concept art for it. Won’t even tell _me_ what it is, the jerk. Their dad found a job out there, too, so… Yeah. They’re doing great.”

“Cool, cool.” Chloe bobs her head, looking distracted. Her eyes seem to be focused somewhere over Steph’s shoulder. Steph suspects that if she turned her head, there wouldn’t be anything there. “Fuckin’ A. Mikey’s a good kid. And Drew’s… not a bad guy, for a dick.” That draws a chuckle out of Steph. Chloe drains the rest of her beer in one prolonged swallow then crushes the can and tosses it in the direction of the sink. It pings off a counter and clatters to the floor. Chloe ignores her errant throw and reaches into the fridge for another can. “You still good?”

Steph’s can is nearly full, sweating coldly in her palm. “All good.”

Chloe opens her new can and resumes drinking. Steph wonders how many she’s had already. After another long silence, Chloe gestures vaguely toward the ceiling. “Rach is holding court upstairs. You know how she does.” She sounds both fond and mildly annoyed.

Steph nods thoughtfully. “You guys… good?”

Chloe stares at nothing for a solid thirty seconds before she summons up an almost convincing grin. “‘Course. We’re always good.”

“Mm.” Steph takes a small sip of her beer to mask the fact that she has no response for that.

Chloe sloshes her beer around in its can in slow, pensive circles. “Mm,” she echoes back. “Well,” she says finally, “guess we’d better head upstairs before they send out a search party, huh?” She flashes Steph a smile that doesn’t quite make it to her eyes then glances around the small kitchen. “Gonna be a pain in the ass to clean this place tomorrow. S’nice to have tonight, though, to just… You know. Not worry about anything.” She takes a long pull on her beer then grabs a six-pack out of the fridge and raises her eyebrows in Steph’s direction. “Ready to go upstairs? Enter the lion’s den?”

Steph raises her beer in salute. “A GM is always ready for adventure. Lead the way.”

She follows Chloe into the hall and toward the stairs, glancing at the photos tacked up by the kitchen as she does. God, Chloe looked so different when she was a kid. She can vaguely recognize her from when Chloe was a freshman at Blackwell, a loud-mouthed, long-haired blonde in the grade below her. Steph mostly knew her by the rumors then. The poor girl there on a scholarship. The girl who set another girl on fire in science class. Then the girl with the dead dad. The girl who told teachers to go fuck themselves, who scrawled graffiti on all the walls, who never came to class. Funny thing about Chloe: even though the rumors about her are usually true, she’s somehow still never what people expect.

Chloe’s bedroom is much more as Steph had expected than the rest of the house. The graffiti on the walls in that familiar handwriting (some of it Rachel’s, Steph notes). The empty beer bottles and dirty plates scattered around. The bright blue bong. The clothes all over the floor. The, wow, frankly ridiculous amount of cleavage displayed on her walls. Damn, girl. 

Rachel is, indeed, ‘holding court’ as Chloe said. The boys are lounging on the floor as she looms over them, perched comfortably on Chloe’s bed as if it belongs to her. She’s spinning some fantastic tale about nothing at all, and they’re staring up at her through the thick haze of pot smoke with their glazed over, bloodshot eyes so raptly it’s like they think they’re witnessing the sermon on the mount. 

The spell is broken as soon as Rachel notices that Chloe has entered the room. Her story dies, forgotten, and her whole face lights up with a smile that makes Steph’s heart flutter in spite of itself. “Our host returns!”

“With reinforcements,” Chloe declares, hefting the six-pack in one hand and indicating Steph with her other.

Rachel beckons and Chloe joins her on the bed, stepping between Justin and Trevor as they bicker goodnaturedly on the floor. Rachel snaps a beer free from the six-pack and gives her a fond peck on the cheek. “I was starting to think you weren’t coming back.” She nods in Steph’s direction with a friendly smile. “Thought maybe you two decided to run off and abandon me in this shitstain of a town.”

Chloe leans her forehead into Rachel’s shoulder. “I would _never_.” Where Rachel’s tone was light and teasing, Chloe’s is surprisingly intense. Even Rachel looks startled by it before she reaches up with her free hand and tangles her fingers placatingly in Chloe’s vivid blue hair. 

“I know,” she replies in a soothing voice, the type one would use on a crying child to settle them. “I know, babe.” Finally her gaze lands on Steph - still lingering awkwardly in the doorway - for more than a fleeting moment. “Hey, girl. You joining the party?”

The cloak of invisibility that seemed to have settled over Steph when she reached the bedroom is yanked away by Rachel’s attention. Justin and Trevor stop squabbling and look over to the doorway, noticing her presence for the first time. “Heeeeeyy, Steph!” Justin calls out. “You made it!”

Steph raises her beer can in greeting. “Uh, yeah. Sorry I’m late.”

“Not at all,” Rachel says smoothly as she pops her beer open. “In fact, you’re just in time.”

Something about the way she says that has Steph’s stomach twisting with nerves. “Just in time for what?” She takes a sip of her beer, trying not to gulp it. 

“Party games.”

Everyone looks at Rachel. Justin and Trevor look like they have no idea what’s going on but are cheerfully gung-ho about it anyway. Chloe, peering up from Rachel’s shoulder, looks mildly perplexed and somewhat anxious. Steph keeps her own face a mask despite the rising anxiety in her own chest.

“Party games,” Chloe repeats flatly with a skeptical raise of an eyebrow.

“Mhm!” Rachel nods enthusiastically. She leans over and presses a firm kiss between Chloe’s eyebrows before bouncing up off the bed and onto her feet. 

Chloe rolls over onto her back and props herself up on her elbows, her skepticism obviously undimmed. “The fuck’re we gonna play? Duck, Duck, Goose? Truth or Dare? This isn’t my fifth birthday party, Rach.”

“We could play Seven Minutes in Heaven,” Trevor suggests. 

Chloe kicks at him with a socked foot and he dodges it with a giddy, stoned laugh. “Dunno ‘bout you two assholes, but the rest of us have better things to do than hang out in the closet.” 

Rachel flips her long, golden hair back over her shoulders, laughing. “We could play any of those things, if you really want. It’s your party, after all, Chlo.” Chloe grunts at that and takes a swig of her beer. “But I was thinking… Light As a Feather, Stiff as a Board.” 

Chloe groans and flops down on her back. Beer sloshes out of the can and onto her unmade bed. If she notices, she doesn’t show it. “Oh, _way_ more mature!”

Rachel ignores Chloe’s sarcasm and turns to grin at Steph. When she speaks, she uses the same voice she uses on store clerks to get things for free. It’s the same kind of voice that sirens use to lure sailors to their deaths. “What do you think, Steph? Chloe could use something… _uplifting_ , wouldn’t you say?” 

Steph is sweating. She still hasn’t moved from the doorway. She feels like she’s stepped into a play without knowing any of her lines. This is exactly why she prefers to stay behind the scenes where it’s safe. “Uh…” Her throat is dry. She takes another drink. Her stomach is starting to warm.

“You try that shit on me, I’m just gonna go limp like I’m getting arrested. Dead weight.” Chloe raises a fist into the air. “Passive resistance, motherfucker. Fuck the pigs.”

“ _Fuck_ the pigs!” Justin pipes up agreeably, raising the bong in salute.

“Damn right.” Chloe sits up and holds out her hand for the bong. Justin doesn’t notice until Trevor nudges him in the ribs and points out her extended hand. He chuckles and hands it off, and Chloe sets about reloading it. 

Rachel rolls her eyes and then winks at Steph like they’re sharing a private joke. “I suppose we can work with that. Steph, you wanna be good cop or bad cop?”

“ _Uh_ \--” Steph is spared from having to formulate a coherent response by a sudden explosion of coughing from Chloe. There’s a brief flurry of activity in which the boys try to help her with a combination of back slapping and beer, which does no favors to her already stained clothes and mattress. She waves them off, still hacking and spluttering. Rachel just chuckles, apparently amused by Chloe’s choking fit. Her eyes are still on Steph. Steph realizes that her jaw is hanging open and takes a swig of her beer to cover for it. 

“So, Chloe,” Rachel begins as the coughing subsides, “are you going to be good and play along, or do I have to get out the handcuffs?”

“Not in front of the others,” Chloe jokes hoarsely as she drags herself into a sitting position. Her face is red from coughing and possibly embarrassment. 

“Ew, dude, get a room,” Trevor says, covering his ears.

Chloe punches Trevor’s shoulder. “You’re literally _in my room_ , bro.” She hauls herself to her feet   
and dramatically extends her arms with her wrists together for Rachel’s benefit. “Alright, Officer Amber, ya got me. I’ll play your stupid game for kids.” She holds up her index finger. “But! I will not be light as a feather, nor will I be stiff as a board.” Trevor snorts a laugh and mumbles something incoherent about being stiff as a board. Chloe ignores him, getting up in Rachel’s face instead. “Dead. Fuckin’. Weight.”

“Fuck the pigs,” Justin cheers quietly to himself as he reclaims the bong and takes another hit.

“Whatever you say, sugar.” Rachel swats Chloe’s backside playfully. Steph takes another swig of beer. The drink’s still cold, but her face keeps getting hotter. “Now lay down on the floor and play dead.” Chloe obliges without further complaint. Rachel beckons Steph and the guys closer. Steph sets her beer down reluctantly on a dresser and wipes her damp palms on her pants. They all gather around Chloe’s bored, twitchy figure on the floor. “Hold as still as you can, Chlo.”

Chloe lets out an annoyed sigh but stills her restless fidgeting as much as possible. “Am I s’posed to fold my arms over my chest or some shit?”

“Nope, just like that is fine. Doin’ great, babe.”

Chloe is obviously still trying to be pissy, but Steph notices a pleased smile flickering over her lips whenever Rachel calls her a pet name. 

“So, uh, how do we do this thing?” Justin asks.

“And, like… what _are_ we doing?” Trevor adds. 

“You’ve never played Light as a Feather, Stiff as a Board?” Rachel questions with some surprise. 

The boys both shrug.

“You’ve never seen _The Craft_?” Steph asks with equal surprise.

The boys shrug again.

“Unbelievable,” Steph mutters as Rachel begins explaining.

“It’s a really cool game,” Rachel asserts, lightly cuffing Chloe’s shoulder when she scoffs. “You see… we’re going to be playing with _magic_.”

“Magic?” Justin asks with a level of credulity that would be more surprising if he weren’t obviously baked.

Rachel nods, a triumphant smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Each of us sits by one of Chloe’s limbs.” She gestures to how they’re all sitting. “This is actually kind of perfect. See, you’ve never even played before and you’re already doing great!” Both boys grin at that, and Steph rolls her eyes. Chloe’s eyes are closed, but Steph can see her rolling them behind her closed lids. “We’ll each put one or two fingertips under the limb nearest to us. So Steph and I each have an arm, and you’ll each take a leg. I used to play this at sleepovers in Cali all the time, so I’ll lead the incantation, okay?” She looks at Steph when she says this.

“Incantation?” Trevor murmurs.

“Uh, sure, Rach.” Steph hasn’t played this game apart from one sleepover in seventh grade, so she’s fine with letting Rachel take the lead. It had all been pretty silly and not particularly successful, but Rachel seems dead serious under her smile.

“So, basically, the idea is that if we pretend that Chloe is dead - sorry, Chlo - and both light as a feather and stiff as a board, we’ll be able to lift her with just a couple of fingers each.”

“Woah, really?” 

“Really,” Rachel affirms. “I’ve done it before. It’s hella freaky, but it works. Want to test to see if we can lift her first?” She places one finger from each hand under Chloe’s arm. Steph carefully mirrors her positioning on the other arm.

“Any of you nerds grope me, you’ll be _actually_ dead,” Chloe pipes up as Justin and Trevor exchange nervous glances over her legs.

“Relax. She’s all bark and no bite,” Rachel assures them.

“Hey!” Chloe protests. “You know damn well that I bite!”

Steph’s head feels like it’s going to explode.

“Shush, you,” Rachel giggles. “You’re supposed to be playing dead.”

“Already?”

Rachel ignores her and nods at the boys. “Go on, put a finger or two from each hand under her leg; don’t be scared. Just, y’know, don’t grab her ass or anything and you’ll be fine.”

“Uh, no problem…” Justin and Trevor exchange a nervous look and tentatively move their hands into position, maintaining a cautious distance from any body parts that might cause Chloe or Rachel to murder them.

“I can trust you to keep your hands in an appropriate place, right, Steph?” Rachel asks with a smirk.

“O-of course!” Steph sputters indignantly. The thought wouldn’t have even crossed her mind before Rachel mentioned it, but now of course her palms are sweating and her face is burning and she can’t stop staring at Chloe’s chest just inches away from her fingers. What the fuck.

“Okay, so see if we can lift her like this.”

Steph obligingly raises her hands. Chloe’s arm lifts a few awkward inches from the floor. Rachel’s success with her other arm is comparable. Neither boy can budge her legs more than half an inch.

“No fair,” Justin mumbles. “Her legs are heavier.”

Rachel tosses her hair back over her shoulders and smiles. “Alright, so now we pretend that Chloe’s dead and then lift her again. Everybody repeat after me.”

This whole thing is so ridiculous. Steph should’ve stayed home. But she keeps her fingers in place and plays along anyway.

“She’s looking ill,” Rachel says. Her voice is eerily grave. All the light has drained from her expression.

A small shiver runs up Steph’s spine. “She’s looking ill,” she repeats along with Trevor and Justin.

“She’s looking worse,” Rachel intones.

“She’s looking worse,” the others repeat.

“She is dying.”

“She is dying.”

“She is dead.”

“She is dead.”

Rachel takes a slow, deep breath and Steph finds herself copying her without thinking. “Light as a feather, stiff as a board,” Rachel begins. As Steph and the others join the chant, Rachel repeats it with them. Over and over: “Light as a feather, stiff as a board. Light as a feather, stiff as a board.” 

This time, it’s easy. Maybe she’s not exactly light as a feather, but Chloe’s definitely liftable. The four of them raise her several inches from the floor.

Justin’s eyes widen. “Woah, holy shit, dude! It’s working!”

His voice shatters the mood, and immediately things start to go awry. Chloe’s weight shifts, and suddenly it’s a struggle to keep her up. It’s all Steph can do to help set her down heavily on the floor instead of straight up dropping her.

“Thanks, Steph,” Rachel says with a sly grin over Chloe’s supine body.

“Ahh, dammit,” Justin complains. “Did I screw it up?”

“What do you think, asshole?” Chloe scoffs as she struggles her way to a sitting position. She’s grinning as she reaches over to mess up Justin’s hair, but Steph swears she looks a little shaken. “But at least I didn’t get dropped on my ass.”

“Or groped,” Rachel adds.

“That, too.”

Steph wants to ask her how it felt to be weightless like that, to be lifted so effortlessly. She holds her tongue: Rachel would probably use her curiosity as an excuse to rope her into trading places with Chloe, and she has no desire to take center stage.

Chloe turns to Rachel. “Satisfied? Can we get back to drinking and getting high now?” Without waiting for an answer, she turns to Steph. “Dude, you ever eat--”

“Actually, I did have another idea,” Rachel interrupts. “Now that we’re in the right spooky mindset.”

Chloe gives her a dubious look. “We are?”

Rachel turns to the others for backup.

“I’ve got chills, man,” Justin confesses. “Like, goosebumps all over.”

“Me too,” Trevor adds a bit sheepishly. “That was… fuckin’ _weird_ , man.”

“You were, like…” Justin thinks for a long time, digging around in the back of his mind for the right words. “... _dead_.”

Chloe rolls her eyes. “Get real, Justin. I wasn’t fucking dead.” She looks somewhat rattled, though.

He shrugs. “Whatever. It was freaky.”

Steph can feel the pressure of Rachel’s expectant eyes. The back of her neck prickles. “It… _was_ kind of weird,” she admits. “Rachel was pretty convincing.”

Chloe heaves a huge, burdened sigh at Rachel’s victorious smile. “Okay, _fine_. What did you have planned, oh Mistress of Ceremonies?”

Rachel grins. “A seance.”

Steph’s eyebrows shoot toward her hairline. Chloe’s eyes narrow. “A… seance,” Chloe says flatly. “Seriously? _That’s_ your big idea?”

“A what?” Justin asks.

“A seance! To pierce the veil between the living world and the spiritual plane.” Justin stares back at Rachel blankly. “For contacting spirits in the great beyond?” When Justin looks even more confused, Rachel clarifies, “ _Ghosts_.”

“Ohhhh…”

“Hey,” Rachel adds, elbowing Chloe’s arm and smirking at her, “maybe we can contact your old friend who ghosted you!”

“Ha fuckin’ ha.”

Steph doesn’t get the joke, but it doesn’t seem to have landed particularly well so she doesn’t ask. Rachel scrambles up from the floor. “First, we should light some candles. Set the mood.”

“Ghosts need a specific mood, huh?” Chloe questions, settling her back against the foot of her bed.

“Not necessarily,” Rachel concedes as she digs through her overnight bag and starts pulling out candles. Clearly, she came prepared. “But it’ll help to put us all in the right mindset for communing with the spirit realm. Besides,” she adds, pausing to toss a wink in Chloe’s direction, “a little mood lighting can go a long way, wouldn’t you say?”

“Um.”

“Between the three of you stoners, there’s got to be at least _one_ working lighter. Which one of you can light me up?” Rachel asks as she positions the candles in the center of the room.

It’s sort of comical how quickly the others scramble toward the candles, lighters flicking and failing. Even the lackadaisical Chloe is suddenly game, jostling with the boys to light the most candles. It would be funnier if Steph didn’t suspect she’d be right in the fray with them if she carried a lighter. Rachel sits back on her heels and watches with amusement. When she casts a glance back over her shoulder toward Steph to give her a bemused look, Steph swallows hard.

Once the candles are gathered and lit in the middle of Chloe’s bedroom, they turn off all the lights except for the Christmas lights blinking along Chloe’s ceiling trim. It does, Steph has to admit, create a certain ambiance. Everyone is bathed in a flickering orange glow as they settle onto the floor rug. Darkness surrounds their small huddle of light.

Steph sits down next to Chloe. Chloe looks like she’s acting annoyed to cover being unnerved. She also looks very, very stoned. Her eyes are totally dark in the candlelight. 

Rachel’s eyes aren’t that different, Steph notices as Rachel settles into place at Chloe’s other side. Maybe it’s the dark exaggerating it, or maybe they’re all just _that_ fucked up. She’s sort of glad that she came so late. She’s not sure how much she would enjoy being as high as her friends obviously are. With her vivid imagination, she might start hallucinating dragons.

“Alright. Everybody settle in,” Rachel says in a soothing but theatrical voice.

Justin’s knee bangs into Steph’s as he sits down beside her. “This shit is spooky,” he says by way of greeting.

“Everybody hold the hand of the person sitting next to them.” Rachel takes Chloe’s hand easily, holding it between them. She takes Trevor’s in her other hand.

When Steph takes Chloe’s other hand she can feel that she’s _sweating_. Cold sweat, clammy. Nervous. Steph kind of wants to pull her hand away and wipe it on her pants, but she also doesn’t want to embarrass her friend. Justin’s is sweaty, too, but warmer. At least Steph doesn’t have to worry about being judged by her own sweaty palms. 

Chloe shifts and fidgets incessantly. Steph can feel every movement she makes channeling up through her arm. It’s incredibly distracting. 

Rachel closes her eyes. Steph instinctively follows suit. “We call upon the spirits,” Rachel intones - there’s no other word for it - and a chill runs up Steph’s spine. “We call upon the spirits,” she repeats. “O spirits, come into our circle and speak with us. We crave an audience.”

The hairs at the nape of Steph’s neck are uncomfortably alert. Chloe mutters, “This is so fuckin’ stupid…”

“Are you there, O spirits? We beseech you, enter our circle. Speak with us. We call upon you.”

Justin’s grip on Steph’s hand is so tight that she’s starting to lose feeling in her fingers. It’s sort of annoying, but she can’t really blame him for being freaked out. Rachel sounds so _serious_. Steph feels all shivery. Logically, she’s with Chloe: this is ridiculous. Seances don’t work. When you’re dead, you’re dead. Not even Rachel Amber can bring you back. And yet… Steph suspects that if she were dead and buried six feet underground, if she heard Rachel calling for her she’d come running, no questions asked.

“Holy _fuck_!” 

Steph is wrenched out of her musings by Chloe’s sharp voice and the feeling of Chloe’s hand suddenly wrenching free of hers. Her eyes flutter open.

“Chloe, you’re not supposed to break the circle,” Rachel admonishes. “It’s dangerous.”

Chloe is standing back from the broken circle, pointing a trembling hand past Steph’s head toward the window. “Did-- Did--” Her eyes are open so wide it looks painful. Her face is utterly pale. Ghost white.

Everybody but Steph turns to look out the window. Steph is trying not to shake. Chloe looks so _frightened_. She’s an ass and totally would pull a prank like this, but she’s not a good enough actor to be faking fear this convincingly. Steph doesn’t want to see whatever it is she’s seen.

“Did anyone else…” Chloe breaks off her stare at the window to glance about at her friends’ faces. “Nobody else _saw_ that?!” Fear melts swiftly into anger. “Of fucking course nobody else saw that…”

“I had my eyes closed,” Trevor says.

“We _all_ had our eyes closed,” Rachel adds. “Except for _you_ , apparently.”

“Of course. Of fucking course.” Chloe digs her fingers into her blue hair. Her face clenches like a fist. “Nobody saw it. Nobody fucking saw it. Of fucking course.”

“What did you see?” Justin asks.

Chloe casts a desperate look around the room then makes a furious sound and rushes for the door.

“Woah, shit!” Steph lunges across the broken circle to right a candle tipped over by Chloe’s abrupt departure. Wax drips onto her hand. She hisses in pain.

“Chloe…” Rachel begins. The door slams shut. Rachel makes an aggravated sound. “Chloe!” she calls. There’s no response from the hallway. “Goddammit,” she mutters, ascending to her feet. She heads for the door then pauses with her hand on the knob. She locks eyes with Steph. “Don’t let the boys burn this room down.”

“Um. Okay.”

And then she’s gone. The three of them are left sitting awkwardly in half darkness: two freaked out and very stoned boys, and a freaked out and mildly buzzed Steph. “We should probably turn the lights on,” Steph says.

“Good call,” Trevor agrees.

Steph rises and flicks on the light switch. When the lights come on, everything feels just a hair more sane. Standing by the door, she can hear muffled voices in the hall. They sound unhappy. “Put out the candles?” she suggests. She moves to help Trevor and Justin so that they don’t, in fact, burn down Chloe’s bedroom as they stumble through the motions.

“What do you think she saw?” Justin asks her intensely as she collects an extinguished candle from him.

“Nothing, probably. Trick of the light, maybe.” When Justin seems unconvinced by her answer, Steph adds, “Maybe a bat?”

“Oh. Yeah. A bat would freak me out, too.”

“They’re like freaky flying mice,” Trevor concurs.

Too much time passes. With the candles extinguished and cleared away, the room feels much too empty. The voices in the hall rise and fall.

“Should we, uh… Should we go?” Justin asks.

“Can’t go without, y’know. Intruding,” Trevor replies.

“I’m going to check on them,” Steph says decisively. She goes to the door. There’s silence on the other side of it now. She waits a moment then opens the door and peers out into the hall. There’s light at the end of the hallway, coming from the bathroom. She sees Chloe standing in the bathroom doorway. Rachel looks like she’s holding the door open with some effort.

It takes Steph a moment to realize that they’re kissing. She starts to retreat back into the bedroom when suddenly Chloe’s voice rises up again, hard as a fist: “What the _fuck_ , Rachel!”

“I thought--”

Chloe pushes past Rachel, nearly sending her toppling into the wall. “Dammit, Rachel, you can’t just stick your tongue down my throat every time I get pissed at you and think that’s going to make everything okay!” 

Steph tries to pull back into the bedroom as Chloe comes storming down the hall, but she doesn’t move quickly enough. Chloe freezes when she sees her. Their eyes lock. Chloe’s are wild and rimmed with red. A little puffy. Shit, was she _crying_?? Steph backs out of her way, shuffling into the bedroom and leaving the door open behind her. Chloe barges in after her, looking around the room wild-eyed. Rachel enters the room behind her quietly and hovers over her shoulder like a ghost.

“Everybody out.” Chloe grinds the words out through gritted teeth. Nobody moves. “Everybody _out_ ,” she repeats. 

Steph wants to do as Chloe commands but she’s frozen to the spot. Cold sweat trickles down the back of her neck. She definitely should’ve stayed home. Avoided all of this weird, drug-addled drama.

Chloe glares at them each in turn, her eyes those of a caged animal. She stares hardest at Rachel. Rachel doesn’t even blink. Chloe’s jaw sets. “ _Fine_ ,” she spits. “You’re all a bunch of assholes.”

And then she’s at the window, wrestling it open as Rachel attempts to stop her. She brushes Rachel’s hands off of her arms as if they’re no greater impediment than a cloud of gnats. And then she’s gone. Swallowed by the dark outside the room. Steph can hear her boots scraping against roofing tiles.

“Chloe, babe, please come back inside,” Rachel says as she sticks her head out the window. “I know you’re freaking out, but you’re fucking _high_.”

“And whose fault is that, Rachel?? Who got me high?”

“You’re acting childish. Why don’t you come back inside and we can--”

“ _Fuck_ you.”

Rachel heaves a long-suffering sigh. She slides herself agilely through the window and joins Chloe out on the sloping roof of the garage. Chloe’s voice immediately rises to a fever pitch. Steph’s skin crawls. She wants to get out of here.

“Uh,” Justin says. “Should we, like…”

None of this has anything to do with them. It’s none of their business. They should all just leave. Let Rachel and Chloe work out whatever drama this is on their own. Justin and Trevor look trapped and uncertain, clearly uncomfortable as they listen to Rachel and Chloe yelling over each other. Steph feels weird about abandoning them, but honestly it’s every person for themself at this point. She’s just starting to inch toward the door when Rachel slides back into the room through the open window and catches her eye.

“Steph.”

Shit. Get out.

Rachel wraps a hand around Steph’s wrist, and Steph isn’t going anywhere. “I need you to do something for me.” Steph doesn’t reply, but Rachel is undeterred by her silence. “You’re the closest thing we have to sober right now, Steph. Chloe… is being unreasonable. She’s being _Chloe_. I don’t know why she’s flipping out so hard right now, but she won’t talk to me.”

Steph really wishes she could teleport. “What makes you think she’ll talk to _me_?”

Rachel shrugs. “Maybe she won’t. But she’s so fucking high right now, and that roof can get really slippery, and… I just don’t think she should be out there alone right now. Not in this condition. If you can’t get her to talk, that’s fine; I just want you to keep her safe. Get her to come back inside if you can.”

Steph’s not Rachel’s goddamn understudy. Steph should be at home, curled up and watching a good bad movie in her boxers. Working on a new D&D campaign and brainstorming how best to ask out the cute girl in the International Sci-Fi Cinema class she’s auditing at the local community college this semester. She should _not_ be buzzed on cheap beer and crawling out onto the cold, dark roof of Chloe’s garage to carefully approach a friend who’s very probably having a nightmarishly bad trip.

Chloe’s perched at the far edge of the roof, thin arms wrapped around her knees, hyperventilating loudly. She’s worrying something between her fingers. Steph can’t quite make out what it is, something dark as the night itself. 

“Chloe… Hey…”  
  
Chloe’s head snaps to attention. Her eyes are still all pupil. She’s definitely been crying; her face is still streaked with it. 

Steph holds up her empty palms in a placating gesture despite her desire to keep the roof tiles in a death grip. “Cool if I join you? It’s… pretty nice out here.”

Chloe gives her a disbelieving glare and snorts. “Your funeral,” she mutters. She returns her attention to the dark object between her fingers. Steph edges closer.

It actually is quite beautiful out there, Steph observes as she settles into a cautious sitting position a healthy yet friendly distance away from Chloe’s huddle. The dark seems less all-consuming. She can see the warm lights in houses across the street. Pinprick stars glittering diamond-cold in the sky. The dark, soft shapes of pine trees in the distance.

Chloe doesn’t seem to notice any of it, or at least she isn’t paying it any attention. She’s staring obsessively at what Steph can now perceive is a large, black feather in her hands and chewing aggressively at her bottom lip.

“That’s a nice feather,” Steph says gently, hoping that it’s the right thing to say. Chloe’s back stiffens and her hands still, but she isn’t screaming profanity at Steph or trying to toss her off the roof so Steph will count that as a win. “You find that out here?”

Chloe hesitates then gives her a curt nod. “You see it?” she asks softly.

Steph blinks, not quite understanding. “Of... course I see it?”

Chloe lifts the feather in front of her eyes, looking more frightened than relieved. “Holy shit. It’s really real… Oh, god…”

“It’s, uh, it’s a big one. Probably a crow or something. They’re… not that uncommon.”

Chloe shakes her head. “Raven,” she says flatly. “Not a crow. A raven.” She inclines her head slightly toward Steph. “You didn’t see him. Did you.”

“...A raven?”

Chloe nods.

“I… No, I haven’t seen any ravens lately.”

Chloe nods resignedly. “He was a raven.”

Steph waits. At least Chloe seems to be calming down. She can handle some awkward moments of not knowing what the hell to say if it calms Chloe down.

“He was at the window,” Chloe continues eventually. Her voice is firm with conviction. “During the seance. He came to the window.” She laughs, and it sounds more like a sob than anything else. “He was _glowing_.”

“Um. Okay.”

Chloe turns to her. “Do you believe me?”

“I… believe that you believe it.”

“He was there. Right outside the window. All lit up,” Chloe insists. “Like he was on fire. From the inside out.”

“Okay.”

“Rachel said I was seeing things. She said I’m just tripping and seeing things.” Chloe holds up the feather. “But I found this outside the window. Right where he was.” She hesitates then extends the feather toward Steph in her trembling hand. “It smells like smoke.”

Steph reluctantly leans in and sniffs near the feather. There is, oddly, a faint whiff of campfire and charred meat. “It does,” Steph agrees.

Chloe closes her eyes and draws the feather back close to her chest. “It does,” she whispers to herself. “It really does.” She wobbles a bit. She looks ready to pass out and fall off the edge of the roof.

“Look… It’s pretty cold out here,” Steph says gently. “Maybe we can go inside and talk about this some more?”

“Rachel doesn’t believe me,” Chloe says. “I wish I didn’t believe it, either.” She raises a hand to her face and begins to sob.

Fuck. Tears. Steph never knows what to do about other people’s tears. “Hey, hey…” She edges closer to Chloe until they’re touching. Chloe’s arm is radiating heat despite the chill of the night. “Let’s go inside and figure this thing out, okay? Maybe a bird flew down someone’s chimney or something and--”

“It’s not _that_ cold,” Chloe scowls. “Nobody’s got a fire going tonight.”

“A campfire, then. Or a firepit. There could be a perfectly logical explanation for all of this. Amplified by drugs.”

Chloe shakes her head. “There isn’t. It’s _him_.”

Steph tugs gently at her wrist. “C’mon, Chloe. Let’s go inside.”

“It’s him,” she insists.

“Who? Who do you think it is?” Steph asks against her better judgement.

Chloe looks up at her with watery eyes. “My dad,” she whispers wetly. She glances toward the window. “Can I tell you something, Steph?”

“Sure…”

Chloe leans into her, her skin burning to the touch. “I used to have these… dreams. I haven’t had them in over a year. But I used to have them all the time.” She coughs out a wet and humorless laugh. “I thought I was going out of my fucking mind. They weren’t ordinary dreams, Steph. I _saw_ him.”

“Your dad?”

Chloe nods solemnly. “I _talked_ to him. Not… memories, or wishful thinking, or whatever. It was like he was really there. Like we were… someplace else. Together. He was _real_. I’m not sure that anything else was, or if I even was, but _he was real_.” She stares sadly at her black feather, twirling it between her fingers. “They were pretty fucked up dreams. But I miss them, sometimes.”

“I’m… sorry, Chloe.”

“I told Rachel about it, ages ago. She didn’t like it, though. Creeped her out. She thought I was just being a bitch, messing with her head. I wasn’t.” She tilts her head to look at Steph again. “She was in my dreams, sometimes, too. They… weren’t really good dreams, though.” Her mouth twitches. “She was usually on fire in them.”

“Oh.”

Chloe shrugs. “Guess I can’t blame her for not being a fan.”

“I guess not.”

Chloe looks for a long moment as if she’s struggling to find the right words. “I miss him, Steph,” she says finally.

Steph reaches out a tentative hand and rubs Chloe’s shoulder. Chloe lets her. “I’m sure you do,” she says. “It’s okay to miss him.”

Once the fight in Chloe has drained into morose resignation, Steph is able to persuade her to return to the safety of her bedroom. Getting her through the window is a minor catastrophe, but Chloe lets Rachel help her from the inside of the room so Steph counts it as at least a minor victory. The feather disappears from her hands somewhere in that struggle, and Steph checks around quickly outside the window for it. It’s too dark to see much of anything. Chloe doesn’t seem to notice its absence, so Steph isn’t about to bring it up.

Steph glances around the room after clambering in and pulling the window firmly shut behind her. Neither Justin nor Trevor is anywhere in sight. Chloe is sagging into Rachel’s arms like an exhausted and overgrown toddler ready for her nap, and Rachel is stroking her brilliant hair soothingly. Steph can just barely hear Rachel’s soft, “Baby, what were you trying to do? At most, you’d break your leg,” and Chloe’s hoarse, “I wasn’t gonna jump.”

Rachel catches Steph’s eye over Chloe’s shoulder. “Thanks, Steph,” she says as Chloe burrows into her neck. “I sent the boys home. I think Chloe needs some down time.”

Steph nods. “Definitely.” She knows that this is her cue to leave, and she should be eager - desperate, even - to take it. Perversely, she feels an overwhelming desire to stay and help Rachel nurse Chloe back to sanity despite the fact that to do so would be to become too deeply involved in something she should clearly be running away from. Rachel and Chloe don’t even seem to notice her as she hesitates awkwardly, watching Rachel rock Chloe back and forth and murmur sweet and gentle words into her ear as she sobs quietly and clutches at her shirt.

She wants to ask. She wants to know if what Chloe saw was real. She wants to go back outside and find that feather. She wants Rachel to smell it and tell her it doesn’t smell for all the world like a raven on fire. She wants to know if the feather is real, if the raven is real, and what real even means in this situation.

Steph doesn’t ask. She closes the door behind her softly as she leaves.

**Author's Note:**

> Steph is such a massively underrated character.
> 
> Thank you for reading! If you liked it, why not drop a comment and smash that kudos button?


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